


Secrets

by whenindoubtblamekirk



Category: The Oregon Files - Clive Cussler
Genre: Abuse, Comfort, F/F, Fluff, Hospital, Near Death, Violence, oregon family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23738047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenindoubtblamekirk/pseuds/whenindoubtblamekirk
Summary: Two startling secrets come out when Juan and the team rush to save you.
Relationships: Y/N/original female character
Kudos: 3





	Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is my first ever fanfic for the Oregon Files. Hope you like it!

Juan always finds it bittersweet calling everyone back from shore leave. On the one hand, people have to return to work, even if working at the Corporation isn’t exactly a desk job. On the other hand, Juan feels much better having all of his wayward children back home.

Which is exactly why the pit of his stomach feels like lead as he heads down to medbay.

“Hux!” he calls out as he walks through the door, his strides quickening from his increasing panic.

Something doesn’t feel right here, he thinks to himself, his right ankle aching slightly. He’s called you six times over the past two hours and you still haven’t answered.

“Juan, what’s wrong?” Dr. Huxley pops her head out from her cubicle, her usual ponytail swishing to the side. Her voice is laced with concern as she sees his serious face.

“Can you track Y/N?”

Every crew member has a subdermal transmitter inside their thigh in case of emergencies and something is telling Juan this is one of those times.

Her brow furrows in confusion as rolls her chair over to her computer. “What’s going on?” she asks as she pulls up the tracking system.

“She hasn’t answered in two hours,” Juan swallows. Hux shoots him a glance before typing faster.

“You think something’s happened?” Everyone knows you always have your phone on you and usually answer before the second ring.

Juan nods as he leans over her chair, staring at the screen.

They both go pale. Your heart rate is weak but fast.

“Juan, she’s hurt." Her eyes lock with his. “Badly.”

But before she even finishes the sentence, he’s already out the door.

* * *

Juan runs through the hall, yelling at crewmembers to get out of his way. He whips the door to the op center open.

“Did you find her?” Max asks, looking over the brim of his reading glasses. Juan ignores him.

“Linc, Eddie, you’re with me.”

The two men share a look as they jump up from their seats. Cards from Linc’s game of Solitaire flutter to the floor.

“Eric, Murph, have Hux send me the coordinates.” Juan turns to Max, who is now standing. Worry lines crease his bulldog face. “Max, get us a car.”

The Chairman leaves the op center, Linc and Eddie hot on his heels.

“Is she okay?” The ex-Navy SEAL asks, jogging next to Juan.

“She’s hurt. Hux says it’s bad." Juan opens the door to his cabin and rushes to his desk. Spinning the dials to his safe, he flings the door open and passes Linc and Eddie two Glocks. The gun looks like a toy in Linc’s huge hands. Juan shoves his Five-seveN in the waistband of his pants.

Out on the dock, Linda stands next to a black SUV.

“Juan what-”

He ignores her. Snatching the keys, he hops into the car. The doors aren’t even shut before the tires squeal and the car flies down the dock.  
Digging his phone out of his pocket, he passes it to Eddie in the passenger seat.

“5478,” he says. Eddie’s fingers fly across the screen as he types in the passcode. Pulling up Hux’s text, he begins to give Juan directions.

After a few agonizing minutes, they finally arrive at their destination.

“She should be right in front of us,” Eddie says. Juan leaves the car running, the headlights barely cutting through the thick, inky darkness that the alley is bathed in. The three men call out to you, but you don’t answer.

Juan’s mind races as he searches the dirty alley. You’re the youngest crew member, beating the previous record-holder, Murph, by ten years. Over time, many of them have come to see you as a little sister. But to Juan, you’ve become more like a daughter. Juan can tell Eddie and Linc are feeling the same protective anxiety.

“Guys, over here!” Linc calls out. The men rush over to join Linc, who’s kneeling in front of your limp form. His big hands cup your pale face.

“Y/N, wake up.”

Juan and Eddie search your body for injuries. Eddie curses as his hands come back covered in blood.

Your eyes flutter open as Eddie begins to apply pressure.

“Y/N!” Juan’s blue eyes stare into yours as he kneels above you. Blood drips from your mouth as you feebly cough. Your chest throbs with pain.

“Tried to…” your voice trails off as your vision begins to tunnel again.

Eddie looks up at you. “Keep talking, Y/N.”

You try to say something, but your eyelids droop as exhaustion rolls over you. Linc shakes your arm.

“Stay with us, Y/N,” his voice is gentle but firm.

“Get her to the car,” Juan orders. Linc slips his arms underneath your legs and around your back. You yelp as a new wave of pain shoots down your collarbone and across your chest.

“Sorry kid,” Linc begins to jog to the car as Eddie opens the backseat. Your head rests against his chest, your body jolting with every step. As you and Linc arrive at the car, Eddie reaches in from the other side and pulls your legs up and in.

“Sleepy,” you mumble, your head resting in Linc’s lap. He cards your hair with one hand and keeps the other firmly on your side as Eddie and Juan hop in. The engine revs as Juan throws the car into drive and speeds down the street.

Turning in his seat, Eddie faces you and starts talking, desperate to keep you awake.

“No sleeping, Y/N. That’s an order.” Juan’s voice is tight.

You try to move, but Linc holds you down.

“Gotta go back…” you say weakly. Your limbs feel like bags of sand and it takes all your strength to reach for the door handle only inches behind you. Your fingertips leave streaks of blood on it.

Eddie grabs your shaking arm and gently lays it on your chest. “Stop moving, Y/N.” Blood continues to seep through his fingers.

Juan looks at you in the mirror. “What happened?”

“T-tried to… to… s-stop… him.”

Eddie and Linc share a look. “Who?”

Your head slumps against Linc’s chest. Eddie repeats the question as Linc shakes you, trying to keep you awake.

Juan’s voice sounds muffled. “Y/N?”

“Cold,” you whisper. Eddie helps Juan take his jacket off as he drives. He drapes it over you as you continue to shiver. It smells of cologne and saltwater. You curl up underneath it as Linc pulls it up to your chin.

You gaze up at him. “I’m gonna… sleep.” Your eyelids get heavy.

Linc shakes his head. He says something, but you don’t hear him. The last thing you feel is Eddie squeezing your hand as everything goes black.

* * *

  
**TWO HOURS EARLIER:**

  
You take a deep breath as you approach the apartment door. Hands shaking, you turn the knob. The stench of alcohol is overwhelming. Your stomach rolls, but it’s from the memories that come with it, not from the smell. Empty bottles and trash litters the floor. You glance at your watch.

 _An hour before his shift ends. Plenty of time to get in and out._ You try to calm yourself as you carefully step over dirty laundry and make your way to your tiny bedroom. The door creaks open, and you involuntarily wince. The smell of must is new, a reminder of how long it's been since you were last here. Slinging your drawstring bag off from over your shoulder, you begin to place your belongings inside. Most of it is just old keepsakes. The head of your favorite stuffed animal sticks out of the bag.

Tears well in your eyes as you clean the dust off of an old picture frame. It’s a photo of you and your mother, a few months before she was deployed again.

A few months before the flag came home in her place.

A tear splatters on the glass and you quickly shove the photo in the bag.

“Y/N?”

Fear chills your veins. Your heart begins to pound.

_No, God please no._

“Is that you?” His voice is slurred and low. Your door creaks open behind you. Before you can react, two gruff hands spin you around.

“Dad,” your voice cracks.

Your father’s huge frame takes up the doorway and blocks any chance of escape. He sticks his face inches away from yours, the alcohol on his breath making you want to gag. His eyes burn with anger.

“You left me.”

You open your mouth to speak when a sharp pain explodes across your face. Everything goes black for a second. When you regain your vision, you’re on the floor.

“Please,” you beg, voice breaking with fear.

His response is a swift kick to the gut. You can hear your ribs crack as you gasp in pain.

“S-stop.”

“You pathetic bitch,” he kicks you again, this time directly in the stomach, causing you to cough up blood and spit.

You struggle to your knees, already dizzy. Another hit comes. Blood drizzles down your cheek as the skin splits open.

He grabs you by the collar of your shirt and drags you to the living room. Thrusting you on the ground, you slam your head against the arm of the couch on your way down.

Seeing doubles, you look up to see him rolling up his sleeves.

“Gonna make this good,” he sneers.

You lose track of time as the hits keep coming. Your head feels like a balloon as your heart pounds in your pulsing chest. You try once or twice to raise your arms in front of your face but it’s futile.

“That’s right,” he says in a mocking tone. He gets close to your face and whispers. “You can’t protect yourself from me.”

 _Gotta… run._ This thought alone takes you a few seconds. You try to crawl, but your movements are clumsy and weak. A new wave of nausea overtakes you and you puke on the floor, just in time for him to kick you again. He winds up for the next punch when, suddenly, he stops.

Blood drips from your forehead and into your eye as you squint up at him.

“J-just get… just get it… ov-”

“Shut up!” his fist comes down on your jaw. You groan in pain as you see stars.

Then you hear it.

Your phone buzzes on the floor a few feet away, having fallen out of your pocket when he first dragged you into the living room.

You lock eyes with him for a split second. With every bit of strength you have, you scramble for the phone. Even though he’s uninjured, his drunken state slows him down as he stumbles across the room. Blood drips from your nose and head, leaving a trail behind you.

The bright white screen cuts through the darkness of the apartment.

It’s Juan.

A new wave of desperation hits you. Your fingers barely graze the screen before your father’s boot comes down on your hand, making you scream out in pain.

Juan’s voice plays from your phone’s speakers.

“Hey kid, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. I know you probably got distracted by something and forgot, but you need to get back soon. Shore leave is over.”

“‘Kid’ huh? Does he mean somethin’ to you?”

“No!” you say a bit too quickly.

“Someone you care about?” his cold eyes bore into you as he steps closer.

You grit your teeth. “He’s n-nobody.”

You lose track of the number of times Juan calls, each one making your father hit you harder. Finally, your father grabs your phone and throws it across the room, shattering it against the refrigerator. Eventually, your chest and face are covered in mixed blood, some from your wounds, some from your father’s knuckles, which are now almost down to the bone.

He stumbles towards your bedroom, his shirt soaked in perspiration, a bottle of whiskey in one hand. You can hear him rummaging around, searching for something.

_The photo._

Your heart clenches as you realize what he’s going to do.

You can hear his muffled voice coming from your bedroom. “Where’s the damn lighter?”

Your mind screams at you to run, and you know in your gut this is your chance. Normally, your father only hit you where others won’t see. But you’ve never seen him this angry before. With your face beaten to a pulp, something tells you you’re not making out of this alive.

You’re forced to choose. The photo, or survival.

You resist the urge to scream in pain as you slowly drag yourself to the door. Your hands are slick with blood and you can barely get a grip on the knob to pull yourself up. The room spins. Holding your ribs with one hand, you open the door and run as fast as you can. Your legs give out underneath you when you reach the stairs. You roll, bringing your arms up to protect your head as you fall down the stairs. Searing hot pain shoots through your collarbone as you land on the concrete floor. Adrenaline and fear pump through your veins as you grasp the railing above your head. Using your good arm, you drag yourself up just as you hear a rage-filled roar from the apartment.

Panic overwhelms you. Your muscles freeze from terror.

 _“If you ever find yourself panicking in the field, focus on one thing.”_ Eddie’s voice echoes through your head.

You lock eyes with the door to the back alley. The hallway spins as you stagger towards it. It’s only a few feet away, but the seconds tick by slowly. You whip your head around.

Your father’s shadow makes its way down the stairs.

With everything you have, you fling the door open and try to run. Your heart pounds, causing your head and chest to throb even worse. Your legs threaten to give out again.

Pure terror is the only thing keeping you alive.

You see a streetlight ahead. A woman stands beside it, smiling at you.

_Mom!_

You almost reach her when suddenly, you collapse to the ground. The crack of a gun registers a millisecond later. Hands shaking, you touch your stomach. Blood pours out and streaks down your shirt. You wheeze in pain. Staring up at the stars above you, a tear trickles down your cheek. Her face flashes in your mind as you’re plunged into darkness.

* * *

**PRESENT:**

  
“What do we got?” A loud voice shouts as something is strapped to your face. Nurses begin wheeling you down the hall.

“GSW, stomach!” A nurse replies. You can feel her hands begin to apply pressure. Everything is muffled; it’s as though you’re underwater. The lights are blindingly bright.

Juan rushes next to the stretcher, his hand holding yours tight. You try to pull off the mask, but the head doctor stops you.

“Don’t do that, baby girl.”

You look up into her eyes and realize you recognize her. Taking in her round face and dark skin, you try to remember her name but you can’t.

A nurse turns to Juan, laying a hand on his arm. “Sir, you gotta let go.”

He looks down at you, his eyes watery. When he doesn’t respond, Linc comes up next to him, gently prying his hand out of yours.

You try to call out to him, but you can’t. The nurse holding the mask to your face keeps telling you to breathe. You try, but your lungs just won’t open.

A nurse shouts something else, but you don’t understand it. You’re wheeled into another room, this one full of equipment.

“Juan…” you groan, eyes searching.

“Three, two, one!” Your body is lifted from the stretcher and placed on a table. A blinding white light stares down at you. Closing your eyes, you slip into unconsciousness.

* * *

Juan follows Linc to the waiting room, where Eddie stands there, pacing back and forth. He’s on the phone with someone. When he sees Juan, he passes the cell to him.

“It’s Max.”

Juan runs a hand through his hair, inadvertently wiping droplets of your blood into it.

“Max?”

“Jesus Christ, we’ve been trying to reach you for twenty minutes. What the hell happened?”

“I don’t know. We found her in an alley. She took a shot to the stomach. She also looked like she’d been in a fight.”

“Where is she?”

“She’s in surgery now. Am I on speaker?”

Max shuffles around for a few seconds before clicking it on. The senior staff’s voices come over the phone.

Linda’s girlish voice is serious. “Juan, we’re here. What can we do?”

“Eric, Murph, I want you guys to scour any of the town’s cameras that might be pointed at that alley. Linda, get Huxley down here.”

She says something in reply, but Juan doesn’t hear it.

A young blonde nurse in scrubs rushes down a hall, running up to the desk. Her eyes are wild with panic. “Where is she?”

The nurse looks up at her, eyes widening with recognition. “Sweetie, there’s nothing-”

“Bullshit! Where is she?”

The three men exchange a look of confusion.

Eddie whispers to Linc and Juan. “She doesn’t mean-”

“Who else?” Linc asks, his baritone voice soft.

The nurse at the desk swallows. “In surgery. But you can’t-”

The girl ignores her, running down the hall. Her hands expertly pull her hair into a bun as she lowers her shoulder into the door, barely checking in speed.

When she’s out of sight, Linc turns to the two men. “Who the hell was that?”

Juan’s eyes follow her. “I haven’t the foggiest.”

* * *

A few hours later, the head doctor returns. Juan, Eddie, and Linc stand up and meet her at the huge double doors to the hallway. Juan swallows hard before speaking, his voice shaking slightly.

“Doctor?”

The heavyset woman’s scrubs are covered in blood. Juan’s stomach twists. She looks up at the three men.

“She’s going to be okay.”

The sighs of relief are audible. The doctor smiles at them, then turns serious again. She holds up her hand. “But, there are some things we need to discuss-”

Before she can finish, the door to the waiting room is flung open. Juan turns around to see who it is, hoping it’s Hux. Instead, a man staggers in, bringing the smell of alcohol with him. Juan notices his knuckles, which are bruised and bloody. Linc and Eddie notice them too, and they look at the Chairman.

The doctor’s eyes burn with anger as he slowly makes his way over to the desk in front of them. The nurse shoots a glance at the doctor, who shakes her head no.

“Wanna see… Y/N Y/L/N? Was she,” he waves his hand around, his voice slurred. “Brought here?”

The nurse simply ignores him. He repeats the question, only to get the same response.

Upon the mention of your name, everything clicks. The bloody knuckles, the alcohol, the bruises that cover your body. Pure rage burns hot inside of Juan. He begins to move towards the man when the doctor lays a hand on his arm.

“Let me deal with him,” she nods to the nurse, who begins to call security as she walks up to the desk. “You’re Y/N’s father, right?”

He spins around but ends up having to grab the desk to keep from falling. “Yeah,” he begins to yell. “This bitch won’t tell me-”

The doctor cuts him off. “This is Nurse Roy, and you will address her as such. Now,” she points to the door. “Leave.”

“No way in hell…” He makes a move to grab the doctor, but she easily sidesteps. He collapses to the floor in front of Juan. It takes every bit of self-control to not kick the man in the face.

Having heard the commotion, half a dozen nurses in bloody scrubs come out from down the hall. Their faces grow serious as they see the man on the floor. Judging by the looks they share, Juan, Eddie, and Linc sense they recognize him.

He begins to stumble as he struggles to get up, his beady eyes staring at the hallway behind them. The nurses interlock their arms, blocking his way and refusing to move. Eddie and Linc step between the nurses and the man.

“You aren’t hurting that baby girl anymore,” the head doctor growls.

His eyes lock with hers. “She deserves it,” he spits.

Juan shakes his head, seething. “Nobody deserves that.”

The man spins around to face him. “Your voice… You’re that guy from the phone,” he murmurs slowly.

Juan’s stomach knots at the image of you hearing his voice, but not able to answer. He nods.

The man lets out a laugh, the sudden noise jolting a few of the nurses. “She crawled towards it, ya know? She was so desperate it was pathe-”

Juan is about to punch him when the doctor beats him to it. Her fist comes down on his face with such a force that he crumples to the ground. A nurse lets out a whoop.

“Get ‘im, girl.”

The doctor gives him a stern look, though a smile pulls at the corners of her mouth. She turns to the other nurses. “Get him on a stretcher.”

The nurses untangle their arms and, Juan notices, move with no haste. Once the stretcher finally comes, they lift him onto it. One of the nurses thunks his head against the metal arm.

“Oops,” she deadpans.

The doctor turns to Juan, jutting her chin at the man’s limp form. “I’ve been wanting to do that for some time.”

“I can tell,” Juan smiles. “Nice shot.”

Eddie steps forward. “Can we see her, doctor?”

She smiles and nods. “She’s going to be out for a while, but yes. Room number 148.”

Linc looks to Juan. “Want me to wait here for Hux?”

“We can let you know if anyone comes in asking for you,” the doctor says gently. “Go visit your friend.”

Linc smiles, appreciative, and the three men set off down the hall.

As soon as they’re out of earshot, Eddie speaks up.

“What I’d give to have five minutes alone with that guy.”

Juan nods, rage still burning hot in his chest.

Linc shakes his head. “She should’ve told us. We could’ve helped before it got this bad.”

“We still can,” Juan says as he turns a corner. A little laminated card reads 148 on the closest door. Arriving at the room, he opens the door.

Juan stops for a second. A girl sits in the chair next to your bed, holding your hand tight. She whispers something to you and kisses your forehead. She rises from the chair and jumps when she notices the three men standing in the doorway.

“Hi,” she says quietly, her voice soft.

Juan realizes it’s the blonde nurse from earlier. He smiles warmly. “Hi. We can give you some time if you want.”

Her tear-stained face goes red. “No, it’s fine. I just wanted to visit my…” she glances back at you. “Friend.”

Her voice is tight when she says the word, and Juan senses he’s missing something. She glances up at Juan hesitantly.

He gestures to her chair as he moves across the room. “It’s okay. Stay.”

Her shoulders relax a little as she sits back down. Juan notices her hand moves to slip back into yours but stops.

The four of you sit there, silently, for a few seconds. Juan settles in a chair opposite the girl. He silently scoops your hand up in his.

“Are you…”

His brow furrows as she trails off. Taking a deep breath, she starts again.

“You’re not… Juan Cabrillo by any chance… are you?”

Juan is taken aback. Eddie and Linc glance at the Chairman.

“How do you know that?”

She glances down at your unconscious form. “I know she isn’t supposed to talk about it, but you guys are like her family.”

A ghost of a smile crosses Juan’s face.

“She’s family to us, too,” Linc says softly. Juan notices his eyes water as he takes in your bruised face and pale skin.

Juan’s phone rings. He apologizes to the girl and leaves the room to answer it.

Eric’s voice comes across the line. “Boss, we got the footage. We’re sending it to you now. But you should know." He pauses. “It’s not pretty.”

“Thanks, Stoney.”

His phone dings a second later. He pulls up the video and turns the volume off as it loads. His gut tells him what he’s about to see is going to haunt him.

The footage is blurry and it takes a second before Juan sees movement. A door from an apartment building slams open. His heart skips a beat as he sees you stagger out into the alley. Your legs shake underneath as you try to make it to the road. Juan sees a shadow at the door and his stomach drops. He watches in horror as your father stumbles up behind you, a gun in his hand. He resists the urge to scream at you, knowing it won’t change what already happened. Juan watches as you suddenly collapse to the ground, the flash from the muzzle cutting through the darkness. You feebly kick, desperate to escape. It takes only a matter of seconds, however, for you to go still. Your father approaches you cautiously and clumsily nudges your leg. You don’t move. Whipping his head around, panicked, your father searches for any witnesses. When he realizes no one is around, he turns and rushes back to the door, leaving his only child to die alone in the streets.  
Juan grits his teeth. How can you do that to a kid? Your own kid? He glances back through the window at you, his heart full of pain. Linc and the girl are busy talking, but Eddie locks eyes with him. Quietly, he walks towards the door.

“We gonna get this guy?”

Juan replays the video for him. Eddie’s face goes pale.

“In the back? And he just left her there?”

Juan nods silently, thinking of all the ways he could kill your father.

“ _Jesus Christ_.”

“Juan?” Hux’s voice snaps him out of it. She stands there in the hallway, her eyes full of concern. “I just talked to the doctor.”

“What’d she say?”

“She has four broken ribs, a possible concussion, a punctured lung, a broken collarbone, and her chest is beaten to a pulp. Not to mention she’s lost a lot of blood,” Huxley looks up at Juan and Eddie, then at you. “It’s a miracle she even survived.”  
Juan balls up his fists. Most of his anger is with your father. He’s seen some terrible things in his life, but beating and shooting your own kid? And leaving them to die? Juan can barely stomach the thought.

Yet, he’s also angry with himself. Just like he said to the girl, this is his family. He can’t shake the feeling that he’s let you down. That this is his fault.

“Stop it.”

“Huh?” Juan looks down as Hux, who just slapped his arm. Eddie must’ve went back inside with you, leaving Juan and the doctor alone.

“Stop blaming yourself. There’s no way any of us could’ve known. You saved her life, Juan. If it weren’t for your quick thinking, she’d be lying dead somewhere, all alone. This isn’t your fault. The man responsible is back at his house, probably downing another drink.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise. “They released him?”

“I spoke with the doctor. Apparently, this has been going on for years. The police chief is a good friend of Y/N’s dad and turns a blind eye. But a few months ago, she and the other nurses worked to get her into an apartment with her girlfriend on the other side of town.”

“Girlfriend?”

Huxley nods and points to the blonde sitting next to you. “According to the doctor, they’ve been together for a long time now.”

“I never knew…” Juan says softly. Though he’s sure no one aboard the Oregon would care, he understands why you didn’t say anything. As far as he’s aware of, you’re the only gay crew member.

“I don’t think any of us did,” Hux’s voice is low. She changes the subject. “Max and the others want to know if it’s okay to come visit?”

Juan takes a breath. “Will she be awake soon?”

Huxley bites her lip. “Given the amount of blood she lost and the drugs in her system, no. But it won’t hurt. Everyone is anxious to see her.”

“Okay then,” Juan runs a hand through his hair, guilt sitting like lead in his stomach.

Hux studies him with concern. “You gonna be okay? I know you guys are close.”

He nods, swallowing. “I’m fine.” Before she can push further, he heads back into the room. Giving Linc and Eddie a look, leaving Juan and the girl alone with you.

“What’s your name?” Juan asks gently.

She glances at you, uneasy. After a few seconds, she answers, “Jenna.”

He smiles. “If you don’t mind me asking, how long have you two been together?”

Her face goes pale as she tenses up, but after a minute, she lets out a sigh of deafeat as her shoulders slump. “She’s been trying to tell you guys, you know? She was so scared that you’d hate her for it." Jenna motions to the bed. “Or that you’d see her as weak.”

Juan’s heart breaks. “We’d never hate her for that, and we’d never see her as weak because of this.”

She swallows. “Our five-year anniversary was a few days ago.” Juan’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “She was staying with me when-” Her voice breaks. “She-she left for some of her stuff at her dad's. I told her not to go, but she must’ve gone while I was here.” She looks down at her shaking hands, tears rolling down her face. “This is my fault.”

Juan shakes his head. “No, it’s not. You got her out of there, didn’t you?”

Jenna nods slowly, avoiding eye contact.

“That probably saved her life. If she had stayed there any longer, there’s no telling what could’ve happened to her. Stuff even worse than this." He motions to the breathing tube sticking out of your throat.

Jenna goes quiet, staring at your bruised face. “She tried to talk to you guys about this, too.”

A lump forms in Juan’s throat. So she did try.

Jenna clears her throat. “She kept saying she didn’t want to bother you. I told her that if she doesn’t tell you guys, she at least has to come and stay with me.”

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the steady beep of the heart rate monitor. Juan lets her take a few calming breaths before speaking again.

“When did it start?”

A tear trickles down Jenna’s face. “She finally talked to me about it last year. We were-” Her face goes red as her eyes dart to the floor. “W-we were sleeping together and I saw… I saw the bruises. She tried to cover them up, but-”

Juan nods in understanding.

“She didn’t talk to me for days. I thought she was mad, but it turns out she was ashamed. I’ve known her since we were four, and I had no idea. God, I wish I had figured it out sooner. Then maybe… ” Her voice trails off again as she stares up at you.

“Hey, you got her out of there."Juan repeats, trying to soothe her. "That very well could have saved her life." He changes the subject. “You said she was there to pick things up?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Do you know what exactly she wanted?”

She frowns. “I think so…”

* * *

Huxley stays behind, waiting for the others to come, while Juan, Eddie, and Linc make their way to the car.

“So that’s her girlfriend? As in she’s…” Linc’s words hang in the air.

Juan nods as her backs out of the hospital parking lot. “Jenna says she’s been trying to tell us for a long time.”

The men go quiet.

_Juan’s head snaps up as he hears a knock on his cabin door. He glances at his watch. 9:46 pm. Opening it, he’s surprised to find Y/N standing there._

_“Hey, Juan,” her voice is low, her head down._

_“Hey, you okay?”_

_Her head snaps up. “Yeah, I’m fine. I was just wondering if…” she stares at Juan’s desk behind him, taking in the piles of papers. “Oh, you look busy.”_

_He runs a hand through his hair. “A little bit.” His voice is tired, and Y/N notices his face has an unhealthy pallor._

_“Oh, well,” her hand flits against her leg. “I was just wondering if you… you uh…”_

_Juan resists the urge to groan. As much as he loves Y/N, she tends to easily get distracted and waste time. Time that he needs so that he can finish his work._   
_“Y/N, is there something you need or…?”_

_She looks up at him, then back down at her feet. “Uh… no. Never mind. Sorry. Just stupid stuff.” She wishes him good night and heads back to her cabin._

Regret hits him like a train. It doesn’t matter which secret she was going to tell him about. He could’ve helped. Judging by the two other men’s unfocused eyes, they’re having similar realizations.

The drive takes a lot longer now that Juan is going closer to the speed limit. When they finally arrive back at the alley, the clock on the dash reads 10:47 pm. Juan parks the car on the street and gets out slowly, taking in the apartment building. It’s definitely seen better days. The dull, brown brick is stained and weathered. Broken windows are boarded up, graffiti covering the ones closest to the ground. The working windows aren’t in a much better state. Discolored and dirty, they let in about as much light as the wooden boards. Juan pushes the main door open, causing its rusty hinges to screech in protest. Remembering Jenna’s directions, he mounts the stairs, Linc and Eddie close behind. Once they reach the first floor, they begin to read the room numbers.

“Guys,” Juan whispers as he pulls out his Five-seveN. They quietly move behind him. He counts down from three with his fingers and then flings the door open. Once again, the stench of alcohol rolls over the three men. Linc closes the door behind them. Looking down at his hands, he realizes they’re covered in cold blood. His nostrils flare in anger as he wipes the blood onto his pants.

In the dim light of the apartment, Juan can barely make out a form on the couch. The snores rumble through the room. Juan motions for Eddie and Linc to start gathering your things. The two men head off in search of your bedroom. Juan steps towards the couch. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices bloodstains near the bottom of it. His eyes follow the trail of blood that leads from the living room towards the kitchen. He resists the urge to gag as the smell of vomit reaches his nose. Looking down at his feet, he sees a puddle of it near his shoes. Next to it is another pool of dried blood. What he sees next makes him snap. Your phone lies on the cracked tile floor, the screen shattered. Juan picks it up. Its screen is streaked with blood.

Juan clenches his jaw, turning to the snoozing form on the couch. Grabbing the nearest open bottle, he pours the contents onto the man’s face. He sputters awake, eyes wild.

“Remember me?” Juan growls.

“What the hell… get out of my-”

Juan cuts him off with a punch to the nose. Blood spurts out, and the man brings his hand up to it. Upon seeing the blood, he snarls. His fist comes at Juan’s face with incredible speed. It makes contact and Juan stumbles backward, surprised by the force.

_That’s the only shot you’re getting._

Pure rage takes over Juan as he begins to throw punch after punch. The man tries to defend himself, but Juan doesn’t give him the chance. Images of you flash in his mind.

The alley, the recording, the hospital bed, the tube sticking out of your throat. With every image, Juan hits harder and harder.

_“Cold.”_

_“She’s family to us, too.”_

_“I know you guys are close.”_

_“Juan...”_

“Juan!” Suddenly, the Chairman feels himself being pulled back. He blinks, whipping his head around. Linc has one hand on his shoulder, holding him in place. Eddie stares at him.

Juan’s chest heaves as he sucks in air, exhausted from the exertion. He looks down at the couch. The man’s face is a bloody mess. Eddie places two fingers to his throat.

“He’s alive,” he opens up a swollen eyelid to find the man’s eyes are rolled up in the back of his head.

Linc holds up a drawstring bag. “We got her stuff. We should go.”

Taking one last look at the man, the three of them leave.

* * *

A smattering of noise reaches your ears. Beeping, low voices, someone crying. Feeling returns close behind. Your hand being held, your hair being carded, your forehead being kissed.

Gasping, your eyes flicker open. A machine beeps in alarm. You blink rapidly, trying to get your eyes to focus. Panic quickly follows as you realize you can’t speak.

_Gotta… run…_

Next to you, Juan snaps awake.

“Whoa, Y/N you’re okay,” his hands are on your shoulders pushing you back down. “You’re in the ICU.”

Your eyes snap down to the IV sticking into your hand. A new wave of panic overtakes you as you reach for the line. Juan quickly realizes what you’re trying to do.

_Out. Gotta… get it… out._

He grabs your hand, holding you back. You whimper and try to push him off. Not wanting to get in the way of your breathing tube, he stands up and leans over you, holding both your arms down. He turns his head to the door, shouting for a nurse.

Someone rushes in.

_No… not him._

You begin to thrash harder.

_Gotta… run…_

But when they approach the bed, you realize it’s Jenna.

“She’s trying to pull out her IV,” Juan struggles to hold your squirming body down as adrenaline begins to pump through your veins. Tears stream down your face as pain shoots from your throat.

She curses. “She hates IVs!” She turns to you. “Don’t do that, sweetheart," she soothes, gripping your shoulders. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see another nurse enter the room. Juan pulls your head to his chest, careful of your tube. You weakly struggle against him, though fatigue ends the fight almost as soon as it begins. He gently lowers you back down to the bed.

Jenna brushes your hair out of your face. You look up at her with panicked eyes.

“It’s okay, Y/N. You’re gonna be just fine.”

A new voice comes from beside you. “We’re gonna take that tube out, okay?” A nurse in pink scrubs points to the tube sticking out of your throat. A tear slips down your face as you nod.

“This is going to be uncomfortable, okay Y/N?”

Fuzzy memories come back to you. This isn’t the first time they’ve come in here, checking your breathing. Images of nurses standing over you flash through your mind.

_How long have I been here?_

The process is slow and awful. You have no idea how much time has passed when the two nurses finally confirm you no longer need the tube. Taking it out is the worst part. You cough and gag, gripping Juan’s hand. He comforts you the whole time, rubbing his thumb back and forth on the back of your hand. Similarly, Jenna holds your other hand and rubs your back. You focus on their motions as the other nurse finishes up. Once she’s done, she leaves.

“It may be hard to speak and your throat might feel a little sore, though that should go away pretty quickly since you only had the tube in for a short time.” Jenna scans the machines around you, checking to make sure your vitals look okay. Giving an approving nod, she looks back down at you. “You scared me there, ya know?” Though her voice is playful, you can see the dark circles under her eyes.

You crack a smile as your eyelids grow heavy. You squeeze her hand.

“Get some rest, kid.” Juan leans over and kisses your forehead. Jenna smiles warmly at him.

* * *

When you wake up again, you’re relieved to find the soreness in your throat has diminished slightly.

Voices reach your ears. Cracking your eyes open, you realize the room is full of people.

Jenna’s voice cuts through the conversations. “Guys, she’s awake.”

Everybody turns to you. Linda stands at the foot of your bed. “There she is.”

Max saunters over and grins, patting your leg. “Nice to see you’re back, sweetheart.”

Eric and Murph look up from their phones. Murph waves while Eric flashes you a shy smile.

Your eyes scan the group. Eddie and Linc stand in the back, towering over Hux and Linda. They both smirk when you make eye contact.

You grin. “Party…” you mutter. Jenna was right about the speech difficulty, though. They look at you, confused when all that comes out is “ _putty_ ”. Looking up at Jenna, she translates.

“Party.”

You nod, smiling at all the people.

Someone pats your hand next to you. Juan’s pixie blue eyes watch you. “I heard Linc is pretty good at karaoke.”

Everyone laughs, the tension in the room releasing. Their relief is almost palpable. You work your jaw, trying to speak again. Thankfully, they wait patiently.

A tear tracks down your face. “You... mad?”

Hux shakes her head. “No one’s mad at you, Y/N. We’re just glad to see you’re okay.”

The others nod in agreement. “Just jealous,” Murph grins.

“W-why?”

Eric smiles, pointing to Jenna. “You got a girlfriend before us.”

Another wave of laughter hits the group.

Linda looks at you. “You gonna introduce us or…”

Your face goes red. Jenna slips her hand into yours. “Jenna... fumily… fumily, Jenna.”

She waves to them and they nod respectfully. “This isn’t how I imagined meeting you guys,” she jokes.

Max grunts. “But it ended well nonetheless.”

You swallow hard, realization hitting you as you stare at the bruises on your forearms.

_They know._

Juan senses your anxiety. “It’s okay, kid. We’re gonna help you.”

Guilt sucker-punches you as you shake your head. “Duserve… it.”

Jenna squeezes your hand. “No, you don’t.”

Surprisingly, Eric speaks up. “Y/N, I was abused when I was your age.” You flinch at the word. “My father used to beat my mother and me almost every night. Did I deserve that?”

You stare at him, your eyes a mix of sadness and confusion. “No… but that’s… duffent,” you mumble.

Eddie steps up from the back. “How? How is that any different?”

Your eyes fall to the floor as everyone stares at you, waiting for your answer.

Eric looks at you from behind his eyeglasses. “That’s because it isn’t. You don’t deserve this, Y/N, just like how my mother and I didn’t.”

You open your mouth to say something when Jenna cuts you off. “Babe,” your shoulders slump in defeat. “It’s over now. Let us help you.”

* * *

You’re released from the hospital a week later. Though you insist that you’re fine, Huxley continues to check in daily. Usually, you’d be worried about exhausting her. Yet, with her new helper, she gets plenty of rest.

It took some convincing from Huxley, but Juan finally gave in. As of yesterday, Jenna is now the newest addition to the Oregon crew. Normally, Juan doesn’t like office romance, but his gut tells him this one isn’t a fling.

You hear a knock on your door.

“Hux, seriously, I’m fine.”

Juan walks in. “Don’t take it personally, it’s in her nature.”

You smile and roll your eyes. “Hey.”

“Just wanted to drop by,” he points to the object in your hands. “Whatcha doing?”

You cast a sad smile at the picture frame in your hands. Shards of broken glass rest on your bed. Juan sits down next to you, careful to avoid the glass.

“Is that your mom?”

You nod. “She was in the navy. She… uh-” your voice breaks a little. “She didn’t come home. My dad blames me.”

“That’s not your fault, Y/N.” He wraps an arm around you, careful to not hurt your healing collarbone. You lean your head on his shoulder.

Sighing, you answer, “I know,” Slipping the photo out, you put it into its new frame. Juan releases you as you stand, walking over to your desk. The back piece of the frame

pops out as you prop it up.

Juan comes up behind you. When you spin around, he envelopes you in a hug.

“Glad you’re home, kid.”

“Me too.”


End file.
